


AlterCodeVerse: The Old Story

by Silver_Stripe_Writes



Category: Undertale
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-20
Updated: 2020-02-29
Packaged: 2021-02-28 02:55:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 2,552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22816597
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silver_Stripe_Writes/pseuds/Silver_Stripe_Writes
Summary: UPDATE: ACV is being reworked. The stories here are no longer the canon story!
Comments: 2
Kudos: 6





	1. The Prologue

The battle…

It was horrible…

The multiverse was destroyed…

It was all wrong.

Ink stared out at the sight before him;

Dream lay next to him, close to death.

Nightmare stood for a few seconds before collapsing, his goop staining the rocky terrain.

Cross had many bones impaled into his arms and chest, his blood spill everywhere.

Fresh and Core, who had gotten caught in the crossfire, lay there at the edge of the battlefield.

Ink caught the sight of two more in the distance; Lorem and Pluren, two guardians who had fought against Dream and Nightmare and horribly lost. Lorem glitched terribly, while Pluren’s magical body started to disintegrate.

Error stood in the middle of everyone, huffing an awful lot and bleeding more.

With each step he took towards Ink, everyone around them started to dust away.

“Looks like I win.” Error coughs, grinning.

Ink is grabbed by his scarf, making him drop his broken brush. “You really thought you could win?” Error spat in the other’s face, “Pathetic.”

The artist skeleton grunted weakly, his vision fading and clearing up constantly. He had to go on. He had to.

But what was the point?

Ink tried to raise an arm, but Error grasped it and snapped it in half, causing Ink to cry out in pain weakly. Error laughed and flung Ink to the ground again.

Error laughed as the allies and enemies around the two died, dusting or just laying there with their souls breaking into tiny pieces. Ink weakly growled, using the last of his strength to send a bolt of ink while Error turned away.

The glitchy skeleton laughed, then gasped, seeing the spear of ink protruding from his chest and right into his soul. He looked at Ink with wide eyes, then collapsed, dusting away.

Ink smiled, then let the sweet embrace of death envelope him…

Wait, did everything around him, glitch?


	2. Entry One:  N̶I̧̕G̕͟͝HT̶͠M̨͞ARE̢͢͡ ̨͟CALLIGRAPHY

He awoke to a blank white space. He blinked, nothing else for miles.

An empty world.

With an empty skeleton.

The skeleton blinked again, looking around. Who was he? Where was he? Why did he feel nothing but negative feelings? He looked at himself to find a mess of cerulean/silver tattoos enveloping his body like a fire and reaching to his right cheek. What were these? He did not know. Should he stand up? Walk around? But there’s be only white everywhere, right?

Again, he did not know.

He stayed there, feeling nothing but a flurry of negative feelings. Tears fell. He cried, screamed, puked, nothing positive.

The skeleton curled up in a ball, waiting…

Crying…

Alone…

…

How much time has passed?

What is time?

Who is he?

He kept asking himself these questions nonstop.

Until he suddenly heard a rush of something, like water?

From above?

The skeleton looked up to see a flurry of blue and silvery colors suddenly appearing and flooding himself and the white space.

He gasped and dove out of the flurry, feeling something new in his chest. What was this? He felt himself crying again, but the reason was not like earlier.

Was it, happiness?

A golden color shot towards him and made a sound emerge from his mouth.

A yelp followed by a laugh.

He stood up and stared at the colors flooding the place. They appeared to have had their own minds, flying around as if they had a purpose. A couple floated around him, nuzzling him and giving him more positive feelings.

He enjoyed their presence, he didn’t want them to leave.

But they had to…

And he felt sad again without them…

The being started going into massive fits, where his cries and screams grew more intense and common. He cried out for the positive emotions to come back for him, to let him feel good again.

Why can’t he just feel good?!

He curled up into a ball and cried again. Oh, how he longed for more of those new feelings.

Once the wisps returned, he was suddenly met with a burst of inspiration. He found a still blob lying there next to him. It appears some of the wisps died out and turned into the blobs. He witnessed more around him turn black and goopy before collapsing into the white ground. The confused skeleton reaches for a nearby blob, and as if it read his mind, the blob in his hand shaped into a belt of vials, all silvery in color. He stared at them, then stared at the wisps, which started to fly towards him- no- towards the vials.

He took the caps off the vials, and one by one, the wisps filed into the vials as if their lives depended on it. The vials turned into pretty colors, red, orange, yellow, as if a living rainbow was being born in the skeleton’s arms. A final wisp went up to the skeleton, and instead of going into the now colorful vials, it dove straight into his mouth. He gasped and choked or a good minute, then took a deep breath, smiling and standing up to stare at the blank world. His cerulean cheek tattoo glowed yellow and moved like a dancing flame.

"Use our power to create." A female voice said to him. "Use the power of the parts of us now gone- and create. Create a whole new world." A black blob slithered up to him and changed its shape and color. It reached up to the skeleton’s hand, forming a calligraphy pen with a black crescent moon on the tip.

"We have our utmost faith in you, Calligraphy…"


	3. Entry Two: ḐR̨̛E̸A̷M̵͜͟ SWEET

Gray.

Fuzzy.

Weak.

He squeaked as a call for help, but no one came.

He just awoke, all alone and afraid. He bounced and rolled around, trying to find someone.

But no one came.

The days passed by, and his energy grew weak. He knew not why, but he needed positive energy. He woke with it, and every day, he felt it drain. He bounced around in the barren world, longing for something to fuel him.

And one day, that came.

He weakly bounced around, no longer calling for help, when a bustle of energy suddenly came to his senses. It was weak and distant, but it gave him enough energy to be led right to it.

From a cliff view, he spotted a village, a newly made one, bustling with creatures left and right trying to build structures. He bounced in excitement. Positive feelings! Everywhere! He was refueled with energy thanks to the creatures’ happy feelings.

He leaned as much as he could to watch when a strong gust of wind sent him rolling down the cliff, bumping into every rock and being scratched by every twig and branch as he stopped in the middle of the village. He weakly bounced about to stop getting trampled by the bustle of feet. A scream rang out and people tried to step on the glowing blob. He squeaked and tried to bounce away, but a kick sent him flying. He screamed a tiny scream and collided into something hard and round, making him cry out in pain and land face first into the ground.

“Hm? Hello?” A voice rang above him. The blob cried and tried to bounce away when he was picked up gently. “What’s a poor thing like you doing here?”

The blob turned around to see the face of a skeletal figure with eyelights that changed shape with every blink staring at him. He smiled and gently pet the shaking blob.

“Are you alright?” He asked the blob, who shook his head and cowered more. The creatures around the two watched them curiously, one seemed to tell the one holding him to kill the blob. He squeaked and tried to jump out of the hands, but they held onto him.

“I won’t hurt you, and I’m definitely not going to kill it either.” His holder said.

“But remember what you said about wayward-“ One started.

“I know what I said, but that doesn’t mean I can’t tame them. Besides, has this thing even done anything to deserve the kicks and steps?” He held out the spirit in front of the villagers, which was hard seeing as his holder was very short. Regardless, the villagers saw the wounded spirit easily and felt bad. His holder lowered the spirit and held him close to his chest, and with that the spirit nuzzled into the chest, trying to relax and take in the energy, but it felt off. This one’s positive feelings felt fake, unnatural.

Draining.

The blob saw the holder have a collection of vials from his belt. It attracted the attention of him. The spirit bounced to it in attempt to bite it, but a swift movement from his short holder made him almost fall to the ground.

“Woah there!” His holder chuckled. “Don’t eat my vials.” The blob turned to see him raise him away from the belt and whined.

The holder looked at him, then at the vials. He sighed and pet the spirit, smiling. He squeaked happily as he felt the happiness and bounced up and down. His yellow glow returning brightly.

The skeleton smiled. “Well aren’t you just a sweet little fella?”


	4. Entry Three: P҉̛l̛ur͟͞҉e҉͢n̷͢  EXITIA

She awoke to a crowd staring at her. She rose her head in confusion, making the crowd step back. Why were they afraid? She looked down at herself; a scaly body with colors pf purple and red. She had no arms or legs, and she had horns that bent at a 90-100-degree angle on the sides of her head. She blinked, making the crowd back up again. They murmured something, then went back to staring at her. She growled at their fear and tried to slither towards them, but something heavy rested over her body. She could not see it, but they made her feel as if she was being restrained. The being glared at the crowd, which in turn murmured as a figure with a black robe parted the crowd to approach her. The figure looked up at her, a glimpse of silver slit eyes staring into what she felt like was her soul.

The figure kept their hood up, but brought out an item, a staff, one that looked like the moon painted itself onto a carved set of branches, then twirled into this trinket. The staff end held a floating gem shaped like a crescent. It was silver and emitted a silver glow. The cloaked figure pointed the staff at her. The gem glowed, causing the being’s body to glow and change. She let out pained noises and blacked out, feeling her bones and muscles shift and change even in unconsciousness.

Once she opened her eyes, she felt the invisible weight now gone. She also didn’t feel her tail anymore. She felt all around her, she was no longer the scaly being she was, but now a bipedal skeleton. She stared up at the crowd, who appears to be as shocked at the cloaked being as she was. They smiled, then spoke in an odd voice, hard to determine if it was male or female, “Take care, you are a special one. Control your powers, and do not let outside forces hurt you.” And with that, they turned and left, leaving the crowd and the new one in silence.

That night, the new one was given a room and a dressy outfit by an elder in a village outside of the cave. She looked up at the ceiling, lying in her new bed and watching the moonlight dance across the ceiling. Who was she? Who was that mysterious person? Why were those people scared of her at first? What was she? The skeleton tossed and turned, mumbling in irritation at her horns getting in the way of her comfort as she pondered it all. Eventually, the figure reappeared right above her, blocking her vision. She yelled out and rolled off the bed and into a fighting stance. “What do you want?! I can fight!!” She yelled out.

The figure chuckled and raised their arms up in surrender, “I’m not here to hurt you.” They responded in their undistinguishable voice, “I just wanted to see you again. You seem to be doing well since your transformation.”  
The newly transformed skeleton narrowed her eyes, “Why did you do that?! Is there an actual reason to you changing me  
?!”  
The figure sighed, “It’s complicated, but I had to for the better. Dangerous consequences could arise from you staying in that form. I trust that you could do amazing things as the form you are.”

“Really? What if I do dangerous things as this form? Does my form really decide what I do?” She questioned, making the figure hum.

“That is something I should ponder, but I think it’s more a state of mind. Trust me, I don’t want your potential to be wasted.” He smiled, making the skeleton relax, “I trust you can use your abilities for the worlds, trust me.”


	5. Entry Four: F̴̶̶̢̢̡̟̻̠̟͇̺͇̫̻͉͖̣͖̈̌̋͛̊̂̌̏̀̿͊̈͋̑̒̓͊̏̈́͘Ŗ̴̶̷̛̱̟̲̪͕͔̘͇̝̦̞̼͙͎̻̅̂̋̑͛͆̽̎̑̆̈́̚̕ͅͅE̶̶̶̡͈͓̰̗̗̳̱̪͓̠̅̉̋͆̋͊́͆̓̏͗̎̀͘̚͠S̷̶̴̡̛̙̗̳̭̞̘͚̜̦̩̬̙͖̝͇͇̮͎̼̥͇̙̗̆̆̋̈̓̔̆̎̍̈́̂̋̀́̎̕͝͝͝Ḩ̶̶̵̛͖̺̱̻͖̗̟̮̤̯͕͙̘̜̌̽͆̓̏͛̏̀͗̈́̓̕̕͜͝  X

A figure watched the multiverse unfold. He looked at it all in disgust. Why would this being go around and create everything? It seemed obvious to this figure the creator of all didn’t know how to properly maintain magic. Creatures of wayward magic appeared everywhere and not even the forgetful artist himself could contain them all.

That’s why he appointed himself as The Beast Master.

Why did he have to be a “son” to him?

He wasn’t even supposed to exist.

It wasn’t like he ever cared about him like a son.

He was just a parasite.

A parasite to magic.

He mainly sat in his father’s pocket, only coming out when he needed to control a Wayward. He was never allowed to come out for anything else. Not for rest, not for food.  
He was always in that pocket.

When he first came out of the pocket, he used his eight small limbs to climb out, looking away from the bright purple sun that blinded him. The creature let out a small pained mini shriek at the light from his eye, causing X to give him a small pat.

His only fatherly contact.

Once he was adjusted to the bright light, his next image was the sight of a scaly beast charging right for them, roaring and snapping when two wolf-like creatures shot out purple chains to strap the beast down. It looked like a giant purple snake. 50 feet long with red eyes.

“You know what to do, X.” His father instructed him, holding his hand into the air. X complied and jumped, latching onto the beast’s face. It roared loudly; eyes glowing. The wolf creatures yelled out and the chains flickered.

“Beast Master! It’s doing it again!”

“Don’t kill it. Let X do its work!” He yells out, glaring at the weakened soldiers.

The parasite bit into the Wayward’s left eye and dug into its head. The Wayward thrashed and roared, then went silent and looked at The Beast Master, the X-Eye staring at him.  
His father grinned. “Good work, X. Now kill it.”

X complied, making the creature bite its own neck, then slipping out into his father’s hand and then into his pocket. He curls up around his body inside the pocket and rests.

Another day, another beast….


End file.
